Mourir
by Taya
Summary: HGSS - Every gift comes with a price...But is the gift of wandless magic worth the price of a pain-filled existence? (Prologue through Chapter 5 up [11-06-03])
1. Prologue:Wandless

AN: Not mine, blah blah blah. (I hate wasting time on disclaimers.) Only Valeria and the plot and the order in which the words are placed are mine, and if you take those, I will not only be flattered but I will also be very pissed off. Formatting is slightly off in these, so please excuse any odd things you might find.  
  
MOURIR  
Prologue  
"Wandless"  
  
"Incendio!" Hermione Granger pointed her pinky and fore fingers at the fireplace as she muttered the word, and flames burst into existence like a phoenix being reborn.  
  
It was a cold, dreary day for a return to Hogwarts, and altogether too dismal to really signify the homecoming that it was. Hermione, however, barely noticed the rain pattering insistently outside her window as she searched in the piles of baggage she'd brought with her. After several minutes of fruitlessly digging through the small mountain of suitcases, rooting through tediously packed bags, yet coming up empty-handed, Hermione gave up and held up a hand. "Accio wand," she commanded imperiously.  
  
From under the large, messy heap of trunks and books, a long, slender mahogany box obviously made for a wand slid out and levitated, landing in the centre of Hermione's palm with a satisfying smack.  
  
Suddenly, a knock sounded on the door and, not wanting to waste time taking out her wand, the seventeen-year-old waved somewhat dismissively at it, as if she were shooing away a bug or an irritating child.  
  
The elegant French doors swung open to reveal Professor Dumbledore.  
  
"Miss Granger," he said with an impish smile so characteristic of the old man, a twinkle lighting in his eye. "I trust your trip was pleasant?"  
  
His smiling face found a twin in Hermione's as she mirrored his expression without hesitation. She nodded. "Very, thank you." Motioning towards her window, where the rain still beat down like an owl begging for entrance, Hermione indicated the intensifying downpour. "I'm glad I just beat the rain. It sounds terrible."  
  
With another pointed finger and a well placed charm or two, the various paraphernalia scattered over Hermione's floor organised itself into a few neat piles. "Come in, Headmaster, please. Would you like some tea?"  
  
"No, thank you, Miss Granger. I just wanted to say hello." Dumbledore turned to leave, then paused. "How was Oxford, by the way?"  
  
An eager smile crossed Hermione's face. "Oh, it was wonderful, Headmaster. The tutors were all very helpful, and working with my magic in raw form was so exciting. You were right, sir, it really does decrease the energy needed, since you don't have to channel the magic through a wand. Right now, I think the wand is still much better, much more natural for me, but it's progressing quite nicely. Thank you for your recommendation." Hermione's gaze now turned somewhat scrutinising as she absently studied Dumbledore's face. "Do you practice it?"  
  
He smiled. "To use a Muggle expression, I'm afraid it's no use teaching an old dog like me new tricks. But if you would like to continue your studies, I will ask the staff if there is anyone sufficiently well-versed in the art."  
  
"Oh, would you, Headmaster? I would be so grateful."  
  
Dumbledore, naturally, already knew that there was but one member on the staff versed at all in wandless magic, but was not at all certain that either Hermione or Professor Snape could handle that particular situation. "Of course, my dear," he said, choosing to abstain from voicing those thoughts. 


	2. 1:First Years, Witches and Snape, Oh My!

AN: Disclaimer's in the Prologue, but I trust you all know the drill.Small homage to JKR in here, hope she won't mind.I should think she'd be flattered but then again you never know, brilliant minds like hers.*sigh*  
  
MOURIR  
Chapter One  
"First Years, Witches, and Snape, Oh My!"  
  
It was near dusk. Hermione her cloak tighter around her slim body as she headed determinedly towards the train platform. The early September day was slightly chilly, the air smelling sweet, as autumn commonly did, but each breeze sent a small shiver skittering through the teenager. Before her, the trees were silhouetted against a watercolour of varying hues ranging from blue to orange.  
  
"Miss Granger!" a voice called after her.  
  
Hermione whipped around to see Professor McGonagall walking briskly towards her, slightly winded. "Miss Granger, the Headmaster would like to see you in his office right now, please. He'd like to speak with you before the Sorting and the Feast."  
  
"Of course," Hermione said calmly; she hadn't done anything wrong that she could think of, she reasoned. It must be something to do with a Head Girl duty. "Thank you, Professor. Please excuse me." She turned back towards the castle.  
  
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
"Chocolate frogs. Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured Beans. Salt-water Taffy!" Hermione was getting frustrated; she'd been standing at the gargoyle for a full two minutes now and for some reason, Dumbledore was not aware of her presence. The girl had been reduced to guessing, and for someone who usually knew everything, this was particularly unnerving.  
  
"Marshmallow rabbits!" Hermione shouted at the statue, exasperated enough to try the stupidest things she could think of. The gargoyle swung open and despite her now-sour mood, she couldn't help but laugh.  
  
Making her way up the narrow passageway, the door to Dumbledore's office swung open unbidden. At least he'd saved her some trouble.  
  
"Miss Granger, come in, please. I trust you guessed the password without much trouble?" Albus Dumbledore's twinkling eyes smiled at her from behind his half-moon spectacles.  
  
It was all Hermione could do to stop herself from glaring at him. She nodded mutely. "You wanted to see me, sir?"  
  
Dumbledore, too, nodded, motioning towards a corner. "Valeria, you may come out now."  
  
Hermione blinked. "Sir, there's no one there."  
  
The Headmaster of Hogwarts gave Hermione a look much resembling the tone of voice Ron had used in first year when he'd demanded if she was a witch or not. Hermione shut up, and Dumbledore smiled enigmatically. "Isn't there?" he glanced back, twisting to look in the corner. "Valeria!" he barked - or tried to. It came out more as a semi-stern sounding command.  
  
A stunning red-headed woman seemed to materialise from thin air; her scarlet hair was twisted up on her head, emerald eyes glinting and dancing in the firelight. They were serious but betrayed a hint of humour behind them.  
  
"Miss Granger," the woman - obviously Valeria - said coolly, her voice infinitely silky, but nothing like Snape's somewhat menacing tones. "My name is Valeria Rowling. I am the new Runes Mistress."  
  
Hermione did a double-take, visibly surprised beyond anything she could have imagined. "Valeria R-Rowling?" she stammered. "Descended from the same bloodline that gifted us with J. K. Rowling?"  
  
"Joanne Rowling was my great-great grandmother," Valeria allowed. "The Scottish background tends to manifest itself in Runes, especially in the women - the men tend to have power asserting itself mainly in Charms."  
  
"It's an honour to meet you, Professor," Hermione said politely, shock making her voice small. She cleared her throat, and Valeria smiled warmly.  
  
"Professor Rowling is here for more than just the purpose of teaching, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, rather absently. "Lemon drop?" he asked, having forgotten to offer one earlier.  
  
"No, thank you," Hermione said.  
  
"One was quite enough, Professor - Albus," Valeria corrected herself. "Thank you.  
  
"Miss Granger, it seems that whilst I was at Oxford University this summer, a prodigy in the mysterious and challenging art of wandless magic had emerged. It seemed that this witch was a novice, yet could perform any number of tasks nearly effortlessly, exploring and discovering new techniques every day. This young witch, who was one year older chronologically than she was physically due to the rather ambitious, I might add, use of a Time Turner in her third year at Hogwarts, was the talk of the University. Graduate students spoke nonstop of her, the professors marveled at her work - this witch, Miss Granger, as I'm sure you've deduced by now, is you.  
  
"Whilst I am, by no means, proficient in the art of wandless magic, as an Auror on reserve, for lack of a better term, it came to my attention that certain Dark Wizards would want your skills for more unscrupulous purposes.  
  
"So, of course, I consulted my runes, and contacted my good friends, Professors Flitwick and Sprout, who informed me that Pr - Albus," she corrected herself again, "was looking for a new Runes Mistress. They suggested that I might come to Hogwarts and help out with..." Valeria glanced suggestively at Fawkes, perched in his own corner. "To help," she amended her word choice, looking fairly satisfied with herself.  
  
"My uncle is our, ah," she looked rather uncomfortable and spiteful all at once, "esteemed Minister of Magic." Distaste flooded her face and Hermione found herself agreeing, if not identifying, with this new professor. " And being from such a prestigious, not to mention pure, bloodline, Voldemort, it seems, would simply adore to have me behind him. Using this information, of course, as well as the fact that my Auror status is not well known - in fact, not known at all, save by you, Albus and three or four people in the applicable branch of the Ministry, I am going to help, with you and with the..." she tilted her head slightly towards Fawkes once more.  
  
"With all due respect, Professors," Hermione began slowly, a puzzled look flitting over her face, "Why are you telling me this?"  
  
"At the end of this year, Miss Granger, I would like to formally extend an invitation to you, in particular, as well as certain other individuals you know, including Professor Rowling, to join our Order. Because you are, for lack of a better term, better acquainted with the Order than she is, and have been at the school more recently, I would like you to assist Professor Rowling out a bit."  
  
Hermione looked apprehensive.  
  
"Oh, I won't be any trouble at all," Valeria insisted, "Don't worry."  
  
Only slightly reassured about this important task, Hermione nodded, a faint blush staining her cheeks, barely visible in the dim light emanated by the roaring fire. "Thank you for your confidence, Professors. I would be honoured."  
  
"Thank you, Miss Granger. I know you'll do just fine." Turning towards Valeria, who was still standing by his desk, he said, "Would you like to head down to the Feast without us? I need to speak with Miss Granger regarding her studies in wandless magic."  
  
"Of course. Thank you again, Miss Granger," Valeria nodded in the direction of the two as she headed out of Dumbledore's office.  
  
Hermione, anticipation flooding her eyes, waved a hand over the cloak she had shed during her journey to Dumbledore's office and sat back, the garment having disappeared from over her arm.  
  
"Miss Granger, I have found you a tutor in Wandless Magic," Dumbledore began, and Hermione knew that this was what she had been awaiting nervously for the entire past week.  
  
Unease and anxiety forgotten, Hermione's eyes shone with happiness and eagerness. "Really?" she queried excitedly, in lieu of the bombardment of questions she yearned to ask; who was it? When could she begin lessons? What would she need?  
  
"Yes, my dear," Dumbledore said. "You will, however, need to ask Professor Snape yourself." 


	3. 2:Aptitude

AN: Disclaimer, as always, in the Prologue - I know there's a bit of fluff in the beginning but I don't write it, I sit down at the keyboard and let my fingers do all the work, LOL. I did take the idea of the flames being in Slytherin colours and having serpents in them from a different story, I don't remember the title at the moment. It was a brilliant idea, many kudos to the author.  
  
I would also like to thank all who reviewed, especially those of you who added some constructive criticism; as one who happens to give flames about half the time (but tries to sugar-coat it) and also one who likes to improve her work through those flames, I have to say that when you guys tell me what you thought about how it was written, inconsistencies in the story and things that seemed OOC, it helps me a lot. I can take flames, please don't hesitate to tell me the truth. I promise I won't cry, so long as you aren't mean for no reason.  
  
As to the Valeria character, I would like to say in response to a review, that I have at this point no intentions of making her any type of Mary Sue. I wanted to pay a small homage to JKR, and apparently from what I've heard, I've succeeded, and I wanted a character whose past was not as well known, who had good connections and could ultimately bend either way, so that she was there if I needed her and there if I didn't. She will not be a completely minor character, I do have small plans for her, but I don't think I'm even going to give her a love interest at this point (unless you count Ron lusting after her, LOL). And without giving anything, really, away - if you don't want anything at ALL given away, it's a bit late but skip to the actual chapter now anyway - I'm just going to say that I am going to give Valeria the job of bailing characters out when they need it, but it's going to be unclear exactly whose side she's on, because I *ADORE* characters like that.  
  
Now, without any further ado, onto the story.  
  
MOURIR  
Chapter Two  
"Aptitude"  
  
Hermione's magical timer went off and she hurriedly sprinkled the pinch of ground starflower seed into the potion brewing in her cauldron. It hissed, turning a deep hunter green and clogging their sense of smell with a nauseating, cloying smell.  
  
Ron, standing next to Hermione, nearly gagged as she grabbed the ladle to scoop the potion into the phials. "Hold the phials, would you?" she snapped, irritated already by his lack of assistance during the brewing process as well as Snape's horrible (more so than usual) demeanor during class.  
  
"'Ermione," Ron complained, picking up the phials with an obviously (purposely) held nose. Hermione rolled her eyes and waved her wand over his nose.  
  
"Breathe, Ron," she said, exasperated and just a tad amused. Ron thanked her profusely for blocking his sense of smell as he held the phials for her to fill. Hermione dumped a ladle of the potion into each one and then pointed her wand at the labels of the small crystal containers.  
  
Each of their names appeared, scrawled neatly over the labels, and Hermione smiled with satisfaction. Next to Ron and Hermione, however, Neville and Harry were not having such good luck; their potion was a bright pink, nowhere near the colour it was supposed to be.  
  
"Hermione!" Neville hissed, and she looked at him with a gaze that demanded to know when he was going to stop needing her help.  
  
She sighed and shook her head with a surreptitious glance at Snape, who was sitting at his desk, obviously grading papers. Waving her wand over her own cauldron - which was allowed - Hermione cleaned it out with a well- placed charm. The sickly-sweet smelling potion disappeared, for which even Hermione was thankful. "Finite Incantatem!" she said then, waving her wand at Ron's nose, and it cleared up as well.  
  
"The bell is about to ring," Snape announced suddenly; the first word he'd spoken in ten minutes (which was rare). "Bring your phials to my desk and my detentions will test them."  
  
"I'll take the phials," Hermione said to Ron, Harry and a very chagrined Neville. "Go on, I'll catch up."  
  
Harry's eyebrows lifted, but he said nothing, simply looked at Ron and Neville as if he knew something, and left. Ron followed closely, with Neville tagging along afterwards, but not without a somewhat confused look.  
  
Hermione waited until everyone else had gone, and then approached Snape's desk cautiously.  
  
He didn't look up. "What do you want, Miss Granger?"  
  
She suddenly became very nervous, placing the phials she held down on his desk and quieting. Only the scratching of Snape's quill as he coated the papers he was grading in red filled the silence that fell between them.  
  
"Miss Granger, I lack the time to allow you to stand there and stare at me, not speaking. If you have something to say, say it. If not, please leave because I have much better things to do than this." Snape continued grading the papers, his eyes not leaving the words scrawled only semi-neatly over the parchment.  
  
Hermione watched as Snape scribbled, "Penmanship" on the paper in his angular, but neat, handwriting. "I...that is, erm, Professor Dumbledore told me...that you were quite proficient in wandless magic, and I was just wondering - that is, of course, if you have the time..."  
  
"Just spit it out, Miss Granger. I don't have all day, despite what you might think."  
  
"Well, sir, I was wondering if you could give me lessons in wandless magic. I studied it over the summer and it's quite fascinating, I think..."  
  
Finally, Snape looked up, and Hermione cut herself off where she was as he said, "I don't need the story of your life, Miss Granger, interesting though you may think it is," he snapped. "I am aware that you studied wandless magic at Oxford University this past summer, and I am also aware that a certain Runes Mistress is pushing me very hard to accept you as a pupil."  
  
Snape glanced significantly at the doorway. Hermione's head whipped around to see Valeria standing there, waiting to speak with Snape.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry," Hermione said quietly, "I wasn't aware that you had an appointment."  
  
"Neither was I," Snape said coldly. "Miss Granger, if you display an...aptitude...for the art of wandless magic, I may be persuaded to accept you as a student in an extracurricular programme. Understand that this is difficult work and I will not tolerate any display of discontent. If you complain or, God forbid, burst into tears, you will leave and not return. I will expect you here tomorrow after dinner. Do not bring your wand."  
  
Amazed, it was all Hermione could do to say, "Thank you, Professor," gather her books and hurry out. As she left, she could hear Valeria beginning to speak and silently wished her luck.  
  
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
"...git," Ron was saying as Hermione scrambled through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor Common Room. "Why do you suppose he was in such a bad mood today?"  
  
Harry, now by far the more serious of the "Dynamic Duo", as Hermione had taken to calling the two, shook his head with amusement and looked towards her as she entered. "Herms!" he called. "Ron was just complaining about Snape, again," said Harry to Hermione.  
  
She laughed. "What are you talking about, Ron? You didn't do anything during class. All you did was hold the phials and make me charm your nose!"  
  
"So you really did charm his nose?" Neville asked curiously; he was nothing like the disaster he had been in Potions, but still could not brew anything to save his life. He simply managed not to explode the Potions laboratory on a daily basis. "Yours actually smelled good compared to ours. I wish I had a pensieve so I could show you."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm glad you don't. Yes, I charmed his nose."  
  
"Which charm was it?"  
  
She shrugged, trying to hide her newfound talent; with small things like charms (but not in Charms class), she tended to use a wand just to cover it up when people were around, but there was no incantation for this charm. "Oh, nothing," she said nonchalantly.  
  
"No, really, Hermione, tell us," Ron said. "So next time I won't need you to do it for me when we make a really vile-smelling potion."  
  
"It's nothing," Hermione insisted. Even Harry raised an eyebrow at this.  
  
"How can it be nothing?"  
  
"Oh, alright," Hermione conceded, leaning in. "Can you keep a secret? I don't really want everyone to know."  
  
"Of course!" Ron exclaimed, rather loudly. Hermione shot him a 'what did I say?' look, and Ron looked down, blushing.  
  
"Over the summer," Hermione said confidentially, voice low, "I learned wandless magic, which really doesn't even take an incantation. Sometimes you can make things up, too, so I sort of made up a charm for Ron."  
  
"Ohh," marveled Neville, awed.  
  
"It's an old art," explained Hermione, quietly.  
  
Comprehension dawned across Harry's face. "Is that it? When Snape said in the beginning of first year that there would be no 'silly wand-waving'? Is that why you had to talk to him?"  
  
Hermione blinked. Sometimes Harry amazed her with his logic, and it surprised her even more that this time, she had not been the one to come up with it first. But then...Dumbledore had to have known when he spoke to her in her room. The only question left was, why wouldn't he tell her then?  
  
He must have forgotten, Hermione thought to herself. That's it, he forgot.  
  
"Yes, that's why I had to talk with him. I need him to help me further my studies, he's the only teacher here who knows it."  
  
Suddenly, she caught a glance at her wristwatch. "We have to go to lunch!" she exclaimed. "Come on, we'll be late!"  
  
"Hey," Ron said suddenly, as they all clambered out of the portrait hole. "Hermione, when do we have Runes? That new Runes Mistress is really pretty!"  
  
Sighing with unmasked amusement, Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron. Boys will be boys, she thought.  
  
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
Hermione sat, idly picking at her food.  
  
"Hermione, what's the matter?" Harry asked, turning to her with a concerned look.  
  
She shook her head. "It's nothing, I'm just a bit...nervous about the test Professor Snape's going to give me."  
  
"You'll do fine." Harry looked skeptical. "When have you ever passed a test with anything under a hundred?"  
  
The Head Girl shrugged. "I don't know, Harry, it's just...different, you know?"  
  
"I'm sure you'll do fine, 'Mione," Ron said, mouth stuffed full on the other side of Harry. "You DID charm my nose with a made-up charm."  
  
Hermione smiled, slightly reassured. "Thanks, guys."  
  
Dinner was over far too quickly for Hermione's taste, and she ate little to no food.  
  
"Good luck, Hermione," Ron said, "though I'm sure you won't need it."  
  
"Yeah, good luck," Harry agreed.  
  
"Thank you. I'll see you in a bit - oh, and could you take my wand for me? Professor Snape told me not to bring it." Hermione handed the slim wooden wand to Harry, who nodded. "See you later," said Hermione brightly, and headed off in the opposite direction as Harry and Ron.  
  
"And where are we off to, Little Miss Mudblood?" asked a cold voice behind Hermione as she approached the corner that marked the Potions Corridor. She whipped around, startled, her hand plunging into her robes for her wand.  
  
"Malfoy," she hissed. "Ten points from Slytherin for disrespect and derogatory terms regarding heritage."  
  
He chuckled, a menacing sound. "Is that all you can do, WITHOUT YOUR WAND?"  
  
Hermione sighed, realising why she had not yet found the wand, and withdrew her hand from her robes; apparently he'd seen her giving her wand to Harry. "No, it's not," she retorted, carefully watching Malfoy pull out his own wand.  
  
"Then let's see what you can do without magic, shall we?"  
  
"TWENTY points for attempting to provoke me," Hermione said coolly.  
  
He raised his wand, pointing it at Hermione. "Petrifi..." he began to shout the full Body Bind.  
  
She simply raised her eyebrows and looked at him. "Expelliarmus," she muttered, and his wand flew out of his hand just as he finished saying "totalis". "Accio wand!" Hermione raised her hand and the wand flew into it. "Another twenty FIVE points for attacking me, or trying to. You may pick this up from Professor Snape first thing tomorrow morning. Good evening, Mr. Malfoy," Hermione added, as she turned and stalked away in the direction of the Potions classroom, which was still a good distance away.  
  
As Hermione rounded the corner into the Potions Corridor, she was surprised to see Professor Snape waiting for her, outside the classroom door.  
  
"Miss Granger, I thought I told you not to bring your wand?"  
  
"It's not mine, sir," Hermione responded evenly. "Draco Malfoy attempted to cast the full Body Bind on me, and I disarmed him. If you could return it to him first thing tomorrow morning, I told him that that was when he could retrieve it." She extended the hand with the wand in it.  
  
"I trust you took the appropriate number of House Points?"  
  
"I took fifty five, sir, ten for calling me a Mudblood, twenty for attempting to provoke me into a duel and twenty five for attacking me."  
  
"Good." Snape took the wand and put it into one of the pockets of his robe. "Now, if you would kindly unlock and unward the door for me, I was told that you were capable of doing that."  
  
"Yes, sir," Hermione said, and waved a hand across the door. "Would you like me also to identify the wards, sir?"  
  
Snape glowered at her. "If you can."  
  
"There are four elemental wards, sir, one for each natural element; fire, earth, water and air. There is one standard ward and one that seems unique to you - did you develop it yourself?"  
  
"Yes," he admitted grudgingly. "Very good."  
  
"Thank you, sir." Hermione pointed at the door and muttered something under her breath, unwarding the door. "Alohomora!" she added, in case there was a conventional lock on it. The door swung open without so much as a creak.  
  
"Now, the fire, if you please, Miss Granger."  
  
Hermoine pointed her fore and pinky fingers, much as she had done upon her arrival in her new quarters. "Incendio!" Flames leapt up, in the Slytherin colours, and Snape nodded at that as well, then continued to instruct Hermoine as to what he wanted to see.  
  
You have to admit, Snape thought, watching the serpents in the flames dance around out of the corner of his eye, it WAS a nice touch. 


	4. 3:Abrumpere Veneficium

AN: You know where the disclaimer is. This chapter has NOT been proofread; as a matter of fact, I just finished writing it, have no beta (because I'll be frank, I can't stand them) and will not, under ANY circumstances, allow my sister to act as beta - I'd rather have my cat do it than her. In addition to that, though I'm usually a proficient beta for myself, I have been staring at this chapter for about two hours (can you say, writer's block) and would not be able to act as a decent beta for it no matter how hard I try.  
  
And as for the reasons for my not waiting; I'm leaving for a three-week camp where I will have NO Net access (still wondering how I'll make it through, I am on a total HG/SS binge so that I don't die of fic- starvation), which means unless I can find someone who is willing to give me their snail mail addy, who I can trust enough to give my FFN password and would be willing to devote their time to typing what will undoubtedly be pages upon pages of my tiny, meticulous handwriting, that means a Net- less heaven for me (not the Net-less part, but the rest of it), and an update-less hell for you.  
  
But let's just see where I can get this absurd work of imagination without leaving four-page long author's notes, shall I?  
  
MOURIR  
Chapter Three  
Abrumpere Veneficium  
  
"Before we begin our lesson today, I would like to address the topic of Seventh Year Projects. Each student will be obligated to complete one Seventh Year Project in a subject of their choice; no doubt most of you will choose to complete the project for Herbology," Snape said, his lip slightly curling up in a sneer as he glanced over the area in which Neville was seated, "or Divination." A decidedly nasty grimace was aimed in the direction of Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown.  
  
"Those of you, however," continued Snape, looking around haughtily, "who will choose to complete a project in the Potions subject, will be under my supervision and will require my approval of your chosen project before commencing work." His gaze swept the room, lighting only momentarily on one or two of the Gryffindors, then flitting across to the Slytherins. Draco was smirking as he muttered something to Crabbe, who smiled somewhat stupidly.  
  
Snape obviously noticed this, but said nothing; Hermione frowned and bit back a comment as the Potions Master began to lecture. She would speak to him tonight, at their Wandless Magic lesson.  
  
She dipped her quill in ink and began to take notes.  
  
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
"Professor Snape?" Hermione timidly pushed the door to the Potions classroom open and peered in.  
  
Snape was seated at his desk. "Well, don't just stand there," he said, not looking up from the papers he was grading. Hermione was quickly finding this habit irritating and frustrating, but kept her mouth shut as she walked in and approached his desk.  
  
"Sir..." Hermione said hesitantly. "I - I hate to impose on you, but my Seventh Year project, I'd like to do it in Potions."  
  
He looked up sharply, and Hermione braced herself for the retort that was sure to leap off his tongue any second. Instead, he kept silent, and the Head Girl tried to hide her surprise.  
  
"Potions?" Snape repeated after a rather long pause; it was still the only thing he could think of to say. From Hermione, he had expected anything BUT Potions; he knew she wouldn't choose Divination (he smirked inwardly at the thought of the girl sitting up in that lofty, but dark tower, working with that ditz of a teacher), but certainly Transfiguration, or Arithmancy - or even Charms. The latest staff meeting had been punctuated with talk of the Seventh Year projects, with every teacher hoping that Hermione would choose their subject. It was almost pathetic, seeing the teachers caring about this girl choosing their subject as if they were all teenage girls with a crush on the same boy. To think that the one teacher who cared the least - well, alright, he could admit it to HIMSELF that he was secretly pleased - about advising Hermione on her Seventh Year project would be asked to...Snape could practically hear McGonagall's screams now.  
  
Hermione took the opportunity of Snape's silence to continue. "I wanted to do the Abrumpere Elixir, sir," she said. "I found the texts in the Restricted Section, while I was doing some research for Transfiguration, and I - I thought it looked interesting."  
  
Snape mentally grimaced. Of COURSE it would be interesting - after all, it WAS a potion that had never before been attempted at Hogwarts (not even by him), mostly for the reason that the formulas were all incomplete and lacking large parts; there had only been one documented successful completion of the Abrumpere Elixir and that had been over thirteen centuries ago. The records of notes had all been hidden away or destroyed, and years of search had turned up fruitless.  
  
"And why is that, Miss Granger?" Snape asked, somewhat suspiciously.  
  
"Well, sir, through my research, I found several variations on the theory that in conjunction with the elements needed to create the potion for Artificial Magic, one would create the Abrumpere Veneficium, the potion that is said will cure magical ailments and banish most toxins from the body. Theoretically, this should cure - uh..." Hermione trailed off, fidgeting for a moment, then finally blurted out, "lycanthropy."  
  
"Lupin," Snape muttered, everything becoming crystal clear.  
  
"Um, yes," Hermione said, "that through this, we - that is, I - could be able to find a cure for Professor Lupin. Unfortunately, there have not been any recorded attempts - let alone successes - to make the Abrumpere Veneficium, which would be my ultimate goal. And," she stammered, "this might double in almost any of my other subjects - Runes, or Defense Against the Dark Arts, or even Transfiguration. But I would need a lot of materials and substances I couldn't get ordinarily, and I..." Hermione began babbling, and Snape just stared at her. She got the picture after a moment or two and shut up. "Sorry, I..." she mumbled, obviously chagrined as she stared at the floor, "I guess I got a bit carried away."  
  
"If I'm not mistaken, Miss Granger, I believe you will require a partner for such a potion."  
  
Hermione looked up at him, a grin pulling at her lips. "Are you - ?" asked she, eyes alight.  
  
"Only for the second potion - the one for Artificial Magic."  
  
"Thank you!" Hermione squealed, ecstatic. "Professor Lupin will be thrilled!"  
  
"Now, if you don't mind; I assume you wanted to get some work done tonight?" Snape asked drily.  
  
"Oh - sorry," Hermione blushed. "Yes, please."  
  
"Your aptitude at Wandless Magic," Snape began, "is...impressive," he allowed. "However, you don't seem to understand the principles behind it..."  
  
"It was a practical class; we didn't do much by way of discussion," Hermione blurted, and Snape looked evenly at her. "Sorry," she said again. "Continue, please."  
  
He raised an eyebrow. "Thank you," he said, as if she'd been generous in allowing him to continue. She blushed even harder.  
  
"Wandless Magic was designed so that the wizard - or witch, in your case, would be able to infuse her spells with more power. The power that is taken to direct your magic through your wand can, through Wandless Magic, be added to the force or effect of your spell..."  
  
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
"Harry! Ron!" Hermione burst through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room, where they could ordinarily be found playing Wizard's Chess or something of the like.  
  
"Hermione? What is it?" Harry took one look at her flushed face and immediately abandoned the chessboard he'd been sitting at with Ron; he'd been losing anyway. Ron was slightly less happy.  
  
"Harry, move, will you?" demanded Ron, and Harry looked back at his friend, a half-smile on his face.  
  
"Can we just keep on playing later?"  
  
"Oh, all right," Ron allowed grudgingly. "Now what is it that you had to interrupt our chess game?"  
  
"I'm sorry, Ron," Hermione said. "It's just that - Professor Snape agreed to be my advisor for my Seventh Year project, and I think that if it works out, then we may be able to find a way to cure Professor Lupin!"  
  
"Hermione, that's great! Did you tell him yet?"  
  
"No - I wondered if you wanted to come with me?"  
  
"Sure!"  
  
Hermione glanced at her wristwatch. "Alright, we'd better get going. There's only half an hour before curfew."  
  
"D'you reckon I should bring my Invisibility Cloak?"  
  
"I can be out after curfew, it's Friday after all. We can just ask Professor Lupin to write you a pass. Come on." Together, the three of them hurried out of the portrait hole.  
  
"Don't be too late coming back, dears," the Fat Lady called after them.  
  
"Professor Lupin!" Hermione gasped, out of breath from their scampering down the halls. She knocked on the classroom door, and a voice called, "come in!" from inside.  
  
"Hermione? Ron, Harry? What is it?" Lupin looked concerned.  
  
"Hermione has news," Harry said hurriedly. "Go on, Hermione, tell him!"  
  
The three of them all grinned.  
  
"For my Seventh Year project, I'm making the Abrumpere Elixir - and afterwards, Professor Snape is going to help me make it into the Abrumpere Veneficium. We think it may be able to cure your lycanthropy!"  
  
Lupin looked startled at first, then happy. "Wha - What?" he asked.  
  
"The Abrumpere Veneficium - it's supposed to cure magical ailments, and conditions. Doesn't lycanthropy classify?"  
  
"Wow...I've been living with it for so long..."  
  
"Well, it will have to go through extensive testing," Hermione said, mood slightly dampened by the thought, "and it - it may not work. But it's worth a try. I just wanted to tell you."  
  
Lupin smiled widely, the happiest that Harry, Ron and Hermione had seen him in a while. "Thank you. Now, you're going to miss curfew. Get going," he said, only mock-seriously, as he ushered them out. "Thank you again, Hermione. I'll see you tomorrow morning."  
  
The smiles didn't leave the three friends' faces until they were each in their beds. 


	5. 4:Birth

AN: As always, disclaimers in the Prologue.  
  
I did get a review saying that Lupin's reaction to Hermione's news was rather - well, for lack of a better word - dull. I wanted to address this above all; that was completely and totally intentional. I'm not going to say any more, but rest assured that there is a reason and all will become clear in good time.  
  
CHAPTER FOUR  
Birth  
  
'Birth signifies the beginning. For most, it is THE beginning. That is also why,' scribbled Hermione, 'the term "re-birth" is also often used.' Placing down her quill, Hermione sighed and rubbed her forehead. She had six inches for Muggle Studies due on Wednesday, and she wanted to get it done now. After all, philosophy had never been a strong point of hers; she much preferred logic and mathematics and - dare she say it? - potions, where things were definite and true, finite and stable. The square root of 49 was not somewhere between six and eight; it was not debatable. It was seven. Period. End of story.  
  
"'Mione, are you coming? We're playing a pick-up game of Quidditch outside. Madam Hooch has agreed to let us." Ron said eagerly, interrupting Hermione's line of thought.  
  
She looked up and shook her head with a small smile. "No, thanks, Ron. I want to get this essay for Muggle Studies done. You know how I hate philosophy."  
  
Standing behind Ron, Harry grimaced. "C'mon, Ron. Hermione'll be much happier if she gets this done."  
  
"Yeah, good luck," Ron said wryly. "Hope it writes itself for you, we'll be back after the game's done."  
  
She smiled wider this time, thankful for such understanding friends. "Thanks, guys. Have fun."  
  
Chatting about who might be Seeker for the other side already, Harry and Ron waved at Hermione, then exited the library, headed for the Quidditch pitch. She lowered her head again towards the parchment.  
  
Just then, she heard a familiar voice speaking with Madam Pince. Hermione couldn't quite place it, and her head popped up to glance at the newcomer.  
  
It was Professor Snape! Concentration lost, Hermione began rooting through her bag in search of her notes, and finally resurfaced a minute later with a sheaf of parchment.  
  
"Professor!" Hermione hissed as she got up and hurried in his direction, trying to stop him from leaving. "Professor Snape!"  
  
He turned and scowled at her. "Miss Granger. There are potions that need my attention. Can this wait?"  
  
She pushed the thick stack of notes into his arms. "I just wanted to give you these. It has the ingredient list I need, as well as my thesis and my notes."  
  
Snape stared at her evenly. "Was it truly necessary to copy the whole of Moste Potente Potions four times over for me, Miss Granger?" he asked, voice icy. Hermione blushed.  
  
"Sorry, sir. It's just - the topic is so fascinating, and there's so many possibilities..." she began to babble.  
  
"Miss Granger!" Snape interrupted her sharply, causing Madam Pince to subject them both to Death Glares of her highest level. "The Wolfsbane Potion waits for no one, especially not upstart, know-it-all seventh years!"  
  
Hermione's eyes widened and she blushed even harder, looking down. "I'm sorry, sir," she said. "Do you - do you need any help brewing the potion, sir?" she asked timidly.  
  
"The Wolfsbane is far beyond N.E.W.T. levels, Miss Granger," Snape said coldly. "In fact, the Polyjuice Potion is one of the only potions that are known to be above that level."  
  
"I can brew the Polyjuice Potion!" Hermione said eagerly. "In Second Year..." she trailed off, looking as if she had just committed a cardinal sin.  
  
"Please, do continue," Snape said, Wolfsbane Potion forgotten, curiosity piqued.  
  
"I'm sorry, sir. It was nothing."  
  
Snape regarded her for a moment, scrutinising her carefully with his sharp gaze. "Alright. Gather your things, QUICKLY, and meet me in the Potions classroom. We have already wasted enough time. I fear I may require assistance now that I've dawdled," he said, complaint well veiled. He quickly strode from the Library, and Hermione nearly tripped over herself trying to gather her things.  
  
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
The door to the Potions classroom was open, apparently in anticipation of Hermione. She entered and looked around.  
  
"In the back," came Snape's voice, and the girl quickly entered the back workroom through a door that was slightly ajar. She pointed her wand at the door to the Potions classroom and muttered a lock and a ward, without being asked, and Snape resisted the urge to look at her approvingly.  
  
"The instructions are on page 496 of Moste Potente Potions, on the counter." Snape nodded in the direction of a thick leather-bound tome lying on a black countertop.  
  
Hermione hurried over and flipped the book open, briefly running her finger carefully down the spine of the book in reverence. Murmuring comprehension and retention charms over the words, the girl only skimmed them through before joining her Potions Master.  
  
"You'll need the powdered asphodel next?" she inquired, and Snape nodded sharply.  
  
They got to work in silence, with Hermione mumbling small spells and charms from time to time to help along the measuring.  
  
The older man was loath to admit it, but he was finding Hermione's presence not only helpful, but somewhat - comforting, in a strange sense.  
  
Before either of them knew it, it was past dinner and the potion was complete. "Thank you," said Snape grudgingly; he wasn't used to thanking anyone, much less a student. "Are you hungry? I'll call a House Elf to bring something down," he offered; it was more out of instinct than anything else, really.  
  
Hermione shook her head. "It's quite alright. It's almost past curfew, I'd better get back. Thom has rounds tonight," she said, in reference to the Ravenclaw Head Boy. "Thank you, though."  
  
Snape frowned. "Perhaps I'd better walk you back." The reason was left unsaid but too well understood by the both of them; Malfoy.  
  
"That would be good, thanks," Hermione said. "Let me just gather my things."  
  
The Potions Master nodded stiffly. "I'll be out in a minute," he told her, as Hermione left the room and shut the door behind her. Snape pinched a bit of Floo powder from a small case atop the unseen mantle; in almost every room in Hogwarts, there was a fireplace, it was simply that you couldn't see them in some of the rooms. The fireplace in this workroom was that way; it only appeared when needed to Floo someone, and was perpetually lit. Unless needed and showing, the fireplace sort of "phased out" so that it wouldn't interfere with anything.  
  
"Lupin!" Snape said into the green flames, and Professor Lupin's face appeared.  
  
"Severus," the werewolf said tiredly.  
  
"I've finished the Wolfsbane Potion."  
  
"Thank you," said Lupin, and stepped through the fireplace to take the goblet from Snape. He took it down all in one gulp and grimaced as he handed the goblet back to the Potions Master. "I swear it gets worse every time."  
  
"It must be your imagination," Snape replied drily. "Now, if you don't mind, I have to escort Miss Granger back to her room."  
  
Lupin's eyebrow lifted, but he said nothing, and Snape sighed.  
  
"She helped me complete the potion, after pulling me off schedule this afternoon in the library," he explained, and a small smile of understanding lit upon Lupin's face.  
  
"I was wondering why the potion was done a bit early this month."  
  
Snape glanced at the clock upon the usually unseen mantle. The potion was finished before it usually was, despite his having been "pulled off schedule". "Then," said Snape with his characteristic scowl, "I will be sure to ask Miss Granger to come next month as well."  
  
Lupin smiled, not saying anything in response to the crude joke; most people believed Snape did not joke, but quite to the contrary, his humour tended to be much more subtle than most. "Thank you, Severus," he said, and disappeared through the fireplace again. Snape waved it away and emerged into the Potions classroom, where Hermione was waiting.  
  
"Shall we go?" he asked; Hermione did not inquire as to what Snape had been doing. She didn't need to; she knew.  
  
"Please," she said instead, and they walked back up to the Head Girl's Room together, in silence.  
  
It was the birth of a beautiful relationship. 


	6. 5:Questions and Answers

AN: Thanks muchly to all who reviewed: Electryone, rhitmcsanm and Romm.  
  
As always, far from belonging to me. ^_^ And if they did, would I be writing crap like this? No, didn't think so.  
  
A side note on my mood as I was writing the latter half of this.I was listening to a gorgeous piece called "By Loch and Mountain", performed by my middle school's Wind Ensemble (a group of about fifty musicians, if even really that, that you audition for - and that I happened to be in last year). Thus, I was also one of the people performing "Loch", and it really helped influence my writing the last part. The beginning was sort of melancholy, and depressed, which is sort of how I'm imagining Hermione is going to be.but not to give too much away. The same with "Journey into Diablo Canyon", which was next in my playlist. That one has some gorgeous moments.  
  
As a shameless plug, I've put spaces between all the slashes and the periods so that maybe FFN will let it be.if not, e-mail me at StrwBerriSwt@hotmail.com.  
  
http: / / www . brrsd . k12 . nj . us / brms / chughes / speccwh . htm  
  
Then just click on "By Loch and Mountain", and/or "Journey into Diablo Canyon".  
  
MOURIR  
Chapter Five  
"Questions and Answers"  
  
Hermione Granger pushed a few strands of hair behind her ear as she bent over the ancient tome she had uncovered in the Restricted Section.  
  
"HERMIONE!" bellowed Ron Weasley, coming in and seeing her still there.  
  
She made a note or two and turned the page.  
  
"HERMIONE GRANGER!" he shouted again, earning himself a glare from Madam Pince.  
  
Hermione scribbled something more down on the scrap of parchment she had on the side.  
  
Finally, tired of trying to get her to tear her gaze from the book, Ron drew his wand and poked Hermione firmly in the back with it.  
  
She froze mid-breath, and whispered something under her breath.  
  
Ron flew backwards, landing with a mild cry of outrage on the ground (and on his arse, no less). Hermione then twisted in her chair to look at him.  
  
"Ronald Weasley, you should know better than to surprise me!"  
  
"I've been bellowing your name for two minutes!" insisted Ron petulantly.  
  
"And d'you think I'm DEAF, Ron?" Hermione demanded. "Five points for disrespect." She rolled her eyes and shut the book on the parchment, which served as a sort of bookmark. "What did you want?"  
  
"It's a Hogsmeade Saturday," Ron said, "and you've been in here since ten this morning. And you missed lunch. AND, what's more, it's almost dinner."  
  
"I am well aware of the time, Ronald Weasley," Hermione glared at him. "Besides, I would have thought you were too busy with Lavender Brown to know whether or not I did, in fact, miss lunch. Which," she said, a challenge in her voice, "I did NOT."  
  
Ron blushed furiously and looked down. "Sorry, 'Mione."  
  
"Don't call me that," said Hermione sharply. "You know I don't like it." She stood and picked up the book, waving to Madam Pince with it as she shouldered her leather satchel and made her way out.  
  
Ron stared after her, then muttered something dismissive about girls and 'that time of month'.  
  
**********  
  
"Dum-dums," Hermione said absently, and the stone gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office swung aside to reveal the winding staircase leading up. She adjusted the satchel on her shoulder and began the ascent.  
  
As she reached the top, she heard a familiar voice speaking with the Headmaster.  
  
"Harry!" she gasped quietly.  
  
".my scar's been hurting as of late, you know - and Hermione's not around to tell me what to do. She's been in the library so much, Professor, even more so than usual. It's odd."  
  
"Harry," returned the sage voice of Dumbledore, "I don't know what to tell you. This project is very important to Hermione. She believes that if she can brew this potion correctly, she may have found a cure to lycanthropy. And this is something very significant, not just to Hermione but to the entire wizarding world. Professor Lupin is, I understand, a good friend of yours."  
  
Hermione could practically hear Harry's nod.  
  
"I think the best thing right now for you to do is just to be supportive, and help her in any way you can. Hermione is a very perceptive girl. I know she'll notice something soon."  
  
She heard Harry's chair scraping back, and Hermione hurried back down the stairs to make it look as if she had just come in.  
  
Dumbledore's office door swung open just as Hermione turned to make her way up.  
  
"Hello, Harry," she said, as she passed him.  
  
"Hi, Hermione," he replied, moving past her. "Hey, I'll see you at dinner, yeah?"  
  
She smiled reassuringly at him. "Yeah." Hermione continued moving up the stairs, feeling slightly guilty about her eavesdropping.  
  
"Miss Granger, please have a seat."  
  
Hermione took the proffered seat with a glance around. Her gaze rested on Fawkes for a moment as she contemplated the Order of the Phoenix, but only momentarily. Her not-so-innocent gaze was drawn to Dumbledore as he cleared his throat.  
  
Well, she reasoned with herself, it's not as if I listened in on something about Ron or anything. It was about ME, she thought insistently, as Dumbledore smiled knowingly at her.  
  
"My dear, I believe that your eavesdropping was merely the 'noticing' I told Harry you would have soon."  
  
"I'm just sorry that I didn't notice sooner," said Hermione quietly.  
  
"You cannot change the past, Hermione, only the future," replied Dumbledore encouragingly. "Now.the reason you came to me."  
  
"I.I seem to have come to a standstill in my research," Hermione admitted.  
  
"Then why come to me?" inquired Dumbledore. "Why not Professor Snape?"  
  
"Because," she said, "I believe that you are the only one in the school who might have my answer." 


End file.
